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Finding inspiration in movement. Searching for identity with words, and without them.

A Short Story on popcorn, hearts, and love

Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

Once upon a time, in the ages of the ice-cold snow, where there were no other things in the world except for mountains and frost, and the world was white and pretty but chilly, there was a boy named Popcorn.

Popcorn was a very bright boy. Always happy, full of laughs. He loved to play in the snow, between the trees, and go downhill in his skies. His heart was solid but soft as a grain of corn. Or as a sun it was. Everyone who saw him thought how awesome he was.

His heart was like a shield. It…


On seeing without eyes - Scrittura 01 September 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: reading for inspiration.

Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

We have been dehumanized for quite some time now.
More than dehumanized. We have been blind.
Blind to The Other while we anesthetized our lives with luxury, pleasure, and, more importantly, wants.

We created Hells. We, The Creators of Nightmares!
Us, The Anxiety Ridden Destroyers of Peace!
Why?
For fear of losing ourselves to The All?
For our egos not to fade in the union with The All?

We created the Me.
Then the Me created the Us to fight against them, The Other.
The ego created The Other, so The Other will serve The Me. The Ego.
The Me needs servants.
The Me…


Haunting Energies. — A Wednesday Prose Poem Scrittura prompt (August, 11th, 2021)

Photo by Pablo Pereyra (2021)

And there she went,
Not even walking through the sky.
And there she walked,
Not even through the corridors of my mind.

We never made it to Barcelona.
There was no need for us to try.

As my relationship with her meant for her to stay in that same place. Sharing a room with the other fantasies in my mind. In the space of incomplete desire, where fear always got the upper hand.

But if you walk with me in that place,
I can tell there’s something left to feel.

If you allow me to exist,
I know I’m sucking…


Let’s stop treating others as accessories to our lives

Violence: Staying in a neighborhood near you! Photo by Pablo Pereyra (2021)

Dear Man:

Yes, you!
The one who is so concerned with his abs and squats, to try to be a “chad” or an “alfa.”
What’s up, bro? How is life?

I have a question for you:
What role do you want to fulfill?
Because what I see so far is you want the world to perceive you as big and strong.
Is that why you buy the biggest truck you can afford? Is it because it symbolizes your manhood?
Large truck= Big private parts?

And is this why you have a closet full of guns?
Is this because you identify yourself with Rambo…


I fall in Love with You, Poetry and Words!

Was this a selfie? Photo by Pablo Pereyra (2021)

On a good day,
At least once,
I fall in love.

Often,
With your words.
Sometimes,
With some sight:
Maybe,
A cloud.
Not often,
The pain in my hips and calves
As I run and put on the miles.

More frequently,
With the idea of you
(And pardon me for fantasizing
When you are so far,
yet your words touch my heart).

Sometimes, with your art.

Yes!
I fall in love more than once.
Maybe,
You just walked by.
Perhaps,
With a word in German,
I suddenly understand,
With its implications of meaning:
Tony Stark means Tony Strong! …


Men often see the surface while forgetting the depth of women

Kaipukaihina Beach, Maui, Hawaii. Photo by Pablo Pereyra (2021)

The Ocean as the feminine

I wrote a version of this poem commenting on Yael Wolfe’s article,Oh, how we long for passionate men!

If I look into your eyes,
If I get lost in them tonight
I may die
I may die
I may die a thousand times

I may witness the forbidden,
What I do not dare to ask
I may see the face of God
Looking back from near or far

If I look into your eyes,
While on ecstasy, you are
It may be awe provoking
Awe is near fear sometimes

It is like staring at the ocean,
With your ankles on…


A Poem — With reading from the author

Photo by Nicholas Turner on Unsplash

I could not sleep last night,
I spent the night staring at my phone.

A friend text me as I woke,
“I dream of you and me staring at Mt. Fuji. Crying.”

I told another friend a day or so ago,
“My home is at the intersection of airports and doors.”

The gate is not a gate. It takes you to another world.
The mountain is alive, I know: I had a child with one once.

Gigantic strong legs jumped between planets,
He did not want to be burned by the hot sun.

My child swam in oceans among stars
(He…


A Poem — Scrittura Saturday Poetry Prompt: Relationships

You can enjoy the reading from this poem by clicking the image. Photo by Damir Spanic on Unsplash

I imagine you in the breasts of others.
Full of milk and adiposities that soften with nipples that harden like in our first time. Or the last one.

I imagine you in the way they smile.
As they see, I don’t know what in me. When I pass running, staring in the distance without looking but seeing.

I imagine you in the way they touch me.
It may be a passing hand resting as if not wanting on some part of my body…

Pablo Pereyra

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